


Where the Bodies Are Buried

by WriterIsNinja



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Luna Lovegood, BAMF Skull (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Child Soldiers, Drabble Collection, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is Skull (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inverted Lightning Tony Stark, Metamorphmagus Harry Potter, On Hiatus, Other, Seer Luna Lovegood, Skull is Not Amused, Sky Luna Lovegood, Spies & Secret Agents, Timeline What Timeline, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Unspeakables Do Unspeakable Things, no beta reader we die like illiterates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:05:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterIsNinja/pseuds/WriterIsNinja
Summary: Skull doesn't particularly think of himself as a nice guy: Unspeakables do unspeakable things in the name of protecting the magical world, and he's no different. Hell, the signing-on bonus is a free kill. Sure he may let some things slide, maybe more than he should, but this shit? Not a chance. He's not looking to recreate his childhood, thanks.Besides, this is part of his God damned muggle *cover story*. The Unspeakables may want him here because that Checkerface fellow was a dangerous... well, even *Harry* will admit to the word "freak" here (arrogant arse had all the morality of Cthulhu) - but that doesn't mean he has to put up with *mistreatment* for it.He's never been one for following rules (or laws, for that matter) he doesn't see the point in anyway. Covers can be adapted, especially (apparently) when you're a Cloud.





	1. The Man Under the Garden

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Target Acquired: Wicked Jester](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312375) by [poorasdirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poorasdirt/pseuds/poorasdirt). 



The second day of dealing with the Il Prescelti Sette, Harry decided, as one of his co-workers was fond of saying, 'that shit don't fly'. He wasn't to the point of furious yet, but this Sinclair guy was annoying as Hell. The Unspeakables may want him here because that Checkerface fellow was a dangerous... well, even _Harry_ will admit to the word "freak" here (arrogant arse had all the morality of Cthulhu) - but that doesn't mean he has to put up with _mistreatment_ for it.

"Stop being a God damned abusive dick," he dodged the follow-up kick with as much ease as the first.

"Just giving you some tough love, civvie," Sinclair sneered, dismissive.

"Yeah, my uncle believed in your sort of _tough love_ too," Skull smiled sweetly, tone bored and eyes cold. "He's buried eight feet under a garden shed with a belt around his neck for it. Think on that a bit, hmm?"

Sinclair blinked as the kid walked away casual as you please. Viper, on the other hand, hummed as if Skull had just gotten _interesting_.

Fon chuckled. He _had_ gotten a tad more interesting.

 

Luce's eyes, for a flicker of a moment, went calculating. Skull was... hard to See.


	2. The Value of Blood

            Nineteen-year-old Harry Potter _smiled_ , and Petunia froze in her tracks. Only a year as an Auror working towards the Hit-Wizard track with a repertoire of household spells turned deadly and he’d been picked up for Unspeakable training. He’d only just finished, which was why he’d waited so long. Harry could be patient for the things that mattered, when he wasn’t on a time crunch, and vengeance _mattered_. Who was going to pass up the opportunity to get off _scot-free_ for a brutal murder? He’d been waiting for this day since before he’d known he was a wizard; he had certainly had plenty of time to _plan_.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, _Auntie_?”

“Of – of course,” she stood aside for him, closing the door and spinning so that her back was to it rather than him.

“Petunia, who’s at the door?” Vernon thundered over the too-loud telly.

 “Walk me in,” Harry smiled coldly.

            Hesitantly, she… walked him in. Harry announced himself with a shattering hex to the television. It would look like a burglary when he was done.

“BOY!” Vernon thundered, half angry and half terrified. “What do you think you’re doing in my house?! Get your freaky –”

“I’m here to kill you, actually,” he said blandly. Petunia gasped, shaking hands shooting up to her mouth. “Well, one of you, anyroad – haven’t decided quite yet. All those lovely lessons you taught me? Sneaking around to find food, cleaning to the level of Petunia’s OCD, getting used to pain, living with starvation? Seems those skills translate well into the assassination business, you see. Spying, too – that one was all _you_ , Auntie. So I’m going to torture and murder one of you, and the other will have to watch, never able to speak of it. I think that’s the worse fate, actually, so… Petunia, that’s for you,” Harry smiled pleasantly, shooting off a leg-locker. “Go ahead and scream if you like; I spelled the house before I knocked. And of course my fingerprints are _already_ all over the house, but…” Harry wiggled his gloves. "Though you _did_ take me in, however often you tried to kill me after doing so, so I'll spare Dudley. Still, you're going to _beg_ me, Petunia Evans Dursley, and you're going to use my _name_."

He turned to a ruddy-faced, half pale Vernon with a quick “Imperio” and smirked.

“Hand me your belt.”

He took a large vial of Petunia's blood with him when he left. She would never know that Vernon was buried eight feet under her own garden shed. 


	3. Part of the Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all updates will be as swift as they currently are, as I suffer from chronic depression which leads to writer's block. Will try my best, though.

            _The only person I’ve ever **enjoyed** torturing is Vernon,_ Harry admitted to himself with a sigh of exasperation, _though I wouldn’t have minded Bellatrix, but Sinclair’s drama is going to earn him a fat lip one of these days. Or possibly Luce will stop being flattered by the pigtail pulling. Huh… is that what he’s doing with **me**? Nah, man’s just an arse_, he shook off the thought.

            Without bothering to look, he slapped Lal’s reaching hand with the spoon.

“I don’t care if this is Luce’s kitchen; the cook says watch only or fuck off.”

            Verde snorted without looking up from his notes.

“You organize your bookshelf by height?” Viper blinked as they entered the kitchen. “And why the Hell wouldn’t you put at least a _lock_ on the door?”

“Because I don’t keep things I care about at someone else’s place?” Skull deadpanned, “And can simply trap the room before I sleep? The job said I have to live with you fuckers; it never said I couldn’t kill you for trespass.”

“Sort of implied,” Verde chuckled.

“Implied is not _stated_.”

“Try to remember Skull’s a _Cloud_!” Luce shouted back over her shoulder as she tossed her hair flirtatiously. Renato preened like the God damned peacock he was.

            Skull sighed. He wanted this job to be over.


	4. Better Taboos

“ _Why_ don’t we use the Taboo to track the Unforgivables? Other than our people, I mean. This guy has more Imperius exposure trace than the Longbottoms do Cruciatus!”

Crickets.

“Good point,” Mission Control finally answered. “Bring that up with Croaker. Any leads?”

“Masked signature, so they’re stealth-trained,” Harry shrugged. “Not too powerful, though – upper-level hedgewitch or lower-level wizard, probably. Some paperwork for an import/export company left with the muggle, though; we all know what _that_ means.”

“Trafficking,” Control agreed.

“We’ll probably need the CSI team in, so I’ll secure the place then head out as Skull to see what I can find. Get Lilah or Jeff to search out Greemar, G-R-E-E-M-A-R, Enterprises while I head to location, will you? Dorna if they’re busy.”

“Sure thing, Grimm.”

“Thanks, mate.” He paused. “Yeah, and someone call the asylum for this guy.”


	5. Potter Luck

            They’re all too busy screaming with the pain of it to realize that Skull, the _kid_ , is gritting his teeth in silence. He’s fallen to one knee, hands braced against the ground, and blood _pours_ where he’d bitten through his lip, but surprisingly, this wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever been in. (No, _that_ lovely little award went to the day he’d gone Active, when his aunt had told him bleach was dinner for the next six months and then starved him until he actually drank it. Not even Cruciatus from Voldemort compared.)

            There’s an echoing silence when it’s over as they gasp in the aftershocks before Verde notes the guilt on Luce’s face and goes off on the woman. Renato quickly joins in, while Viper stares down at tiny hands and Lal fusses over whoever ‘Collonello’ is (like Hell somebody had named their kid Colonel in Italian, although if that was his rank and Lal was his _superior_ … huh, good to note). Fon, luckily for Luce, is still in shock, because he could probably kill all of them _together_ in a fight (even if Harry resorted to magic), let alone a single pregnant woman. Slowly, aching in his bones, Skull rose, listening to the screaming that Luce doesn’t so much as protest, watching the chaos unfold.

            A God-damn migraine, right between the eyes.

            Slowly he stalks forward, completely unnoticed until he steals one of Sinclair’s guns, flips off the safety, and fires into the ground in one swift move. (Firing into the air would be idiotic, and he’s not _that_ much of a wizard: what goes up must come down.)

“ _Thank_ you,” Skull spits venom into the sudden silence, clicking the safety on before handing Renato back his gun with a deft flip of the hand. He bloody _hated_ guns, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trained on them. His voice is as quiet as a snake about to strike as he says, “There is a _siphon_ on my Flames. There is a _siphon_ on the manifestation of my God damned _Soul_ , Luce. I could see if you don’t give a shit about _us_ , but you have just damned your _daughter_ too. _Why?_ ”

“For my _granddaughter_ ,” Luce offered softly, face filled with regret.

            Hesitance moving into something faster like a release of poison, she tells them about her visions, and Checkerface, and the fates of their descendants if she _hadn’t_ kept her silence. Viper is the only one of them who wouldn’t have _had_ any children, apparently, though Skull couldn’t imagine Verde with kids. Renato, surprisingly, he _could_ imagine, though he figured it would be out of wedlock. It didn’t surprise him at all when Luce told him that his own children would be the product of a friends-with-benefits scenario, but to learn that his baby girl would meet the most grisly end of them all? He’d put up with the woman, at least, for averting that.

            Harry didn’t wait around to listen to the tears and begging. He had to inform his superiors on his new child-like state.

_Well,_ he sighed, _at least the magical world has seen weirder shit. Like that time Dumbledore’s robes were turned into an Eldritch Abomination instead of merely a Fashion one – and this coming from a guy who wore **Dudley’s** cast-offs. That poor First Year, though… I wonder if she’s **still** that bad at Transfiguration? Hmm, you know, the Department might like her for study. I should owl Hermione for the kid’s name._

_Maybe I could get away with claiming I’d fucked up an ageing potion until this is fixed…?_


	6. Portents

“Hey Lulu,” Harry sighed exhaustedly, hopping up to sit on the arm of the lovely orange and blue armchair she’d brought for her desk. Well, at least he was building more endurance. “You want Harry or Unspeakable Grimm?”

“ _Skull_ ,” she replied, blue eyes icy and glazed all at once. He sat up sharply, paying attention; he knew that look. “The Lily-Conqueror is plotting yet, in regards to the Chosen. Fate-touched are hard to See, once the Fate is done. Keep her close and show her _de Mort_ , or let her drive herself full of Nargles trying to predict you; it’s your choice. But know that it’s a poor Seer who can’t predict without Seeing.”

            Her warnings were rarely so clear, so Harry noted the import of it.

“Not everyone can juggle both a Mastery in Arithmancy and a Bachelor’s in Maths, Princess,” he rolled his eyes with a smile, “but thank you for the warning."

"Hermione's trying for a _Ph.D._ in Biology, a Bachelor's in English Literature, _and_ an English Magical Law Mastery," Luna pointed out. 

"She's also not _working_ for a living yet," Harry snorted. "It'll take her years of student loans and her parents' money. So, have you discovered any new creatures lately?”

            Harry let his ears catch the sound but, distracted, he was slower to respond. So Giglio-Nero still had designs on him. Well, if she was looking for a Cloud (he was well-aware of her Guardian Set, and Cloud wasn’t one of them), she was shit out of luck: long before he’d had a name for the Flames Harry had _found_ his Sky. He and Luna Lovegood, during their talk at the end of his Fifth Year about death, had _Harmonized_ (as he now knew it was called) the natural way, through understanding and compassion, not like Little Miss Bitch trying to _conquer_ his damn soul.

_Nero indeed,_ Harry sneered to himself, before shaking off his bitterness to pay attention to his closest friend.

 


	7. The Weakest

           Three weeks post-Curse and Fon had called a meeting. Since no one wanted to reveal one of _their_ safe houses, they’d reluctantly filed into Giglio-Nero Mansion.

“I called this meeting because, as Skull pointed out, Flames are the embodiment of our souls, and the _pacifier_ ,” Fon spat, “is pulling on my reserves. I’m wondering how long we’ll last until the Curse ends.”

            They turned to Luce, because that was a damned good point.

“Thirty-three years for you, but if I keep my adult body –” which, obviously being pregnant she _had_ to, “I’ll die within thirteen, fourteen if I push it.”

“Actually, I’ve been working on that,” Skull sighed, running a hand through his hair. At the odd looks he was getting, the twenty-two-year-old pointed out, “I may not have known the _name_ for my Flames; doesn’t mean I don’t know how to _use_ them, and as you pointed out, I’m Inverted – that means I use them _internally_ rather than externally. So I’ve been propagating my own Flames and I’m fairly sure I can do the same for you lot.”

“If you become that big of an asset, we’d have to throw off suspicion,” Viper pointed out.

“Which is fine on my part,” Skull agreed, “stuntmen are taught acting as well as martial arts, but I’m not sure how well _you_ guys can pull it off. So we’ll have to make it easy. Collonello, I don’t know you, but come up with an insulting nickname that isn’t a swear. Fon, Lal, act dismissive of me, sporadically light violence on your part Lal. Verde, you can pull me aside to supposedly experiment on and I’ll protest loudly and keep you fed for a week, ‘cause if I didn’t know you were just that obsessive about work I’d think you were anorexic. Though I’ll consent to blood tests and some Flame experiments on a case-by-case basis,” he added off the top of his head. “Obviously I’m still pissed at you Luce, but I’d probably be the only one of us willing to visit frequently _anyroad_ , so…" keep your enemies close. "Viper, you’re my contact – as you all know except maybe Collonello, I take off a lot, so you can pay them to get ahold of me – so if you can pretend to be distantly amused at my stupidity when we _do_ meet, that’ll have my character acting friendly and sometimes paying to hide behind you. Because Sinclair, _you’ve_ got the easy job; you’re going to treat me like shit in public like you tried to pull early on, though if you try that in private I’ll skin your God-damn dick,” he offered with deadly seriousness.

“My _pleasure_ ,” Renato smirked.

“Do remember that if your grandkid was going to become one of us, that means you _daughter_ is already out there somewhere. _Kar-ma_!” he singsonged.

            Sinclair snorted angrily, subsiding.

“And your character?” Collonello asked.

“Stage Skull,” he shrugged, “the idiot braggart with a death wish, maybe with some crybaby thrown in. People like that for a stuntman when you’re doing the circus circuit. The civilian you’re trying to toughen up, maybe – though I did a couple of cage fights for cash as a kid, that can be worked in,” he mused more to himself than anyone. “Basically, we let them assume “Inverted” means the personality aspect.”

“And how is this going to disguise _anything_?” Lal demanded.

“Because you’re publicly going to mock me as the _Weakest_ Arcobaleno, and it's going to be _believed_ ,” he smirked.


	8. Easy Money

            Tilting his head to the side, Skull continued to examine the In/Out Board. As he had intended, the knife missed by centimeters.

“Aww, Viper’s _out_!” he turned and accosted one of the mooks. “Let Mammon know I’m at that bakery they find decent or end up consuming your own entrails, hmm? Good. Cause I’m absolutely serious about the cannibalism.”

            He wandered back out the door, ducking a flying lamp in the process. He wasn’t aware that Squalo had overheard (not with _that_ amount of noise), but wouldn’t have cared if he’d known. After all, Viper had Harmonized with Xanxus di Vongola, and Superbi was his first Guardian. Their Elements weren’t quite bonded yet, but they were getting there (slowly, as was the preferred way), and that was enough for Skull.

“So, is Varia Headquarters _usually_ like a frat house?” Skull leaned in, curious.

            Mammon snorted, taking another bite of their strawberry cream cake.

“Half fraternity half asylum,” they agreed. “What brings you here, Skull?”

“I’m gonna be out of the country for a bit,” he shrugged. “Off the radar, too, except for my burner mobile. If any of the others call you for my current number, can you avoid telling them unless it’s an emergency? And of course I’ll pay you for the service.”

“Well I’m not going to turn down easy money!” Mammon laughed.


	9. Answers

“Voi! So de Mort is a lot more violent-minded than you claimed,” Squalo raised an eyebrow. “Said he’d force cannibalism on a mook if he didn’t let you know his location when you got in."

“It’s an Arcobaleno thing,” Mammon defended. “I can’t tell you much.”

            Xanxus snorted.

“Tell _something_ then.”

“We make him look weak on purpose; if he wasn’t waring a mask, he didn’t care if you saw – likely because of your connection to _me_.”

“That’s it?” Squalo gaped.

“His secret keeps us _alive_ , Superbi,” Mammon hedged.

“Leave it,” Xanxus demanded. “Told what they can. Arcobaleno shit’s off limits now.”


	10. A Missing Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away; I was in the hospital for a bit. Next update will take a while.

“Dr. Carbonnell,” Harry greeted. He knew who she was of course, having been hired on as a “personal trainer” in an exchange of favors with the Department. Her identity hardly mattered, however, except in the fact that she seemed well-versed in how to blend already, though not to spy levels quite yet. That Codirector Stark had recently passed was of no matter in fulfilling his contract. “I’m Agent Grimm. I was hired by Mrs. Carter-Sousa on behalf of your father,” giving no indication he was aware of who that was or their relation to SHIELD, “to further your self-defense training and teach you spy tricks, as they were well-aware that you intended to go off the grid for a time upon graduation. This training will aid you in disappearing, if that’s your wish, and defending yourself regardless,” he handed over his signed NDA, which she read with remarkable speed.

“I’m not up to much of anything right now,” her sweeping hand revealed the bottles around the house even if the bloodshot eyes hadn’t given it away.

 “When you’re at your worst is you _most_ need to fight, Doctor.”

               She tried to flirt her way out of it, but Harry shut her down quickly.

“I’m twenty-one, Dr. Carbonnell; I don’t sleep with minors.”

“Call me Betty,” she said with a tight-lipped smile through her pounding hangover.

“Of course,” Grimm agreed easily. “Will Betty be requiring false identity papers? Because I was informed that you’re a hacker and already had some training, but contact information for quality forgers is on my list for the paper end.”

                She paused, pleasantly surprised.

“Mama set up Betina Carbonnell for me when I was little, but Luciána Jarvis will need them,” she hedged. The NDA would keep him quiet and referred to ‘the student undersigned’ rather than use her actual name, but….

“I’ll give you the numbers once we’ve worked out a training schedule,” Agent Grimm agreed.


	11. The Shadow

                Becoming a woman was always a pain in the arse; their center of gravity was lower and it threw his balance off (plus flirtatious slimeballs, which he wasn’t entirely certain were any better than obsessive fangirls). He’d had to propagate his height, too, which hurt like Hell _and_ drained his reserves. Still, he and Luna were paired today, “Lily” working the local rumor mill with a flirtatious smile and Unspeakable Sear going in for the kill… if, of course, the creature wasn’t too rare to be dissected rather than bred. Breeding for study was usually where the mission got messy. Hopefully it was just a boggart. Luna had a system for those: “riddikulus” and a locking spell, oddly enough, usually killed them if they couldn’t adapt to the new and quite humorous form. Hopefully the muggle witness they were searching for wasn’t an Esper; that would mean a murder rather than an Obliviate, and all the kills were Luna’s today. Not that she couldn’t (Luna would be more likely to throw up if they had to put down the _animal_ , honestly), but she wasn’t fond of the kill. Harry had a better stomach for such work, sometimes even enjoyed it depending on the target.

                Lily excused herself after a moment after overhearing just what she needed.

“It’s either muggle hunting or someone brought lethifolds back into Britain, Sear,” he confirmed.

“Fuck,” Luna breathed, far more foul-mouthed than her usual. It was warranted.

                It was generally held (in the Department) that lethifolds were asexual-breeding ancestors of the dementors, and even Lulu wouldn’t try to breed one of _those_. Even if they were currently impossible to kill, however, they were still required to hunt them down before the wizarding world was exposed. As was, it just looked like mass-disappearances, which the previous two villages on the route had attributed to a serial killer, no Obliviate necessary. With any luck, the idiot wizard who had smuggled them into the country had gotten eaten rather than using them as a stupidly unpredictable assassination tool. Two months in though and they finally had a lead, so Potter Luck willing, he could tell Viper he was available soon. After visiting Teddy and giving Andromeda a week-long break, of course.

“When we find it, you cast the Patronus and I’ll see if a locking charm adds anything?”

“Good suggestion,” Unspeakable Sear nodded as Lily melted into Grimm while they turned a corner. “It’s worth a try,” she agreed.

                _Apparently they explode_ , Harry thought, amused. _Best report that separate from the AAR._


	12. Grandfathered In

“Nick Fury,” he shook her hand.

“Ah,” Mallow Potter, ‘daughter’ of the late Phillip Potter, smiled a tad awkwardly. “Named for your grandfather, I take it?”

                Marcus blinked, but never missed a beat. Her tone showed what she was really asking: ‘Is that codename grandfathered in?’

“Yes, actually. He served on the SSR-ORA Alliance Strike Team One,” Nick confirmed.

“With my grandparents, who were ORA Command,” she nodded agreeably. “You’re aware that while I may _own_ the company, Assistant Director Fury, I’m not the person you should be talking to? I sign a few papers and let the Board run things for the most part.”

                Nick Fury should have known that Dorea Black’s grandnephew (God was that confusing when he was looking at a woman) would recognize his codename. James Potter may have been thirteen when his cousin Phillip had died, but that hadn’t made Dorea and Henry any less the boy’s godparents. Marcus’ predecessor for the name had met them in World War Two, when SHIELD’s parent organization had joined forces with the Unspeakables of various nations and the Occult Resistance Authority to hit Hitler and Grindlewald hard. Dorea had opened Phoenix Fine Incorporated in ’42 to aid the war effort by turning potions into pharmaceuticals and spells into the equivalent medical equipment, so it made sense that Harry Potter owned it, even if he was playing his own cousin to do so without a wizarding media frenzy.

“This is a… private consultation, Lady Potter,” he pursed his lips as if trying not to phrase things wrong in a public area.

“Call me Mal, please.” If they were going with cover identities....

“Nick, then,” he agreed.

“My office is this way."


End file.
